“I will pay it, whatever it is,” I reply straightaway, knowing I will do anything for Dawn.
They glance at each other and have some form of silent communication before all looking at me and speaking at the same time. “You are powerful, the cost is high. Let our men feed on you and we will get you the location.”
“Witches,” I hiss, and they ignore me.
“Not enough to drain you or make you weak, a taste is all,” Mercy clarifies.
“That means they will be able to track me anywhere in the world, forever,” I counter, and they grin, knowing that. I debate my options, but what choice do I have? I need that location. They must sense my hesitation though.
“They will not harm you, dragon, they are loyal to us, but we need to be paid. Finding the location will not be easy for them.”
“Them?” I repeat, confused, and Loxley nods.
“They will find it. Only the dead can walk among the sleeping court and survive.”
Grinding my teeth, I jerk my head in a nod. “Fine, one may feed before, the others after I have my information.”
The witches grin. “Accepted.”
Chloe turns to her man and strokes his face lovingly. “Edward, my love, feed.”
The one in the tux snarls and jerks, but Loxley leans back against him and he settles down even as he glares, watching Edward coming towards me with malicious intent, his eyes alive and filled with hunger as he takes me in and the power pouring from me. It is against a dragon’s nature to share it, to share our power or let another take it or feed from it. It means we are weak, exposed, but I have no choice.
For her, I remind myself.
He steps close enough for me to feel the ice-cold touch of his form, and I have to refrain from ripping him to pieces. He flashes me a grin as if he knows my thoughts.
“This will hurt,” he informs me, seemingly happy about that before his hands dart out and grip either side of my face.
I growl as the chill penetrates my cheeks and glides into my blood, freezing the vessels and making me sluggish as it pumps through my body. He closes his eyes with a groan, his face lax in pleasure as the warmth leaks from me to him, my heat replaced by ice inside me.
“Enough,” I snarl, ripping his hands away after a few minutes. He laughs, stepping back with a stumble, drunk from the power.
“So powerful,” he whispers with wide eyes. “So filled with it, I could eat it all up.”
The other two step forward, but I narrow my gaze, my body shifting slightly until I’m larger, my scales starting to cover my arms. “Enough, dragon,” Loxley shouts, and looks at the ghosts. “Go, find the location.”
The man in the tux grips her chin harshly and kisses her. She moans and leans against him, and then suddenly he is gone, and I glance around to see the others do the same. I relax slightly when they leave and cross my arms, glaring at the witches who watch me curiously.
“Why do you need the sleeping council?” Chloe asks inquisitively.
“Enough, I have paid your price, you will not get my secrets from me,” I growl, and they titter with laughter.
“Oh, dragon, we could rip them from you if we wanted to, but we don’t. You are a friend. Did you not notice we stopped our men from stealing your soul and warmth to survive on? A little appreciation, dragon, or we will start to think we are not friends after all,” Mercy warns.
I grind my teeth, but I still need them, so I have to play nice. “Fine, thank you.’’ Each word is like glass on my tongue.
“Better.” Loxley grins. “I’m guessing it has something to do with his mate. Did you find her?”
“Not yet,” I offer and they nod.
“Soon, she has a destiny after all,” they murmur in unison. I shift, feeling annoyed and wanting to be on the road. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can find Dawn.
The witches must notice because they step closer and all focus turns to me. Their eyes hold far too much knowledge, they see too much, and it makes me wonder what they see when they look at me.
Never mind, I don’t have time, I have to get that location.
“They will be back soon, dragon, but do not be in so much haste. Are you so ready to throw your life away?” Mercy questions.
“The sleeping council is a secret for a reason. They are our most powerful brethren, well, apart from the gods. They intentionally live in solace, because they are too strong to be around us. They will kill you with nothing but a thought for going before them. What will they do to your mate? Tread carefully,” Loxley adds.
“They are locked away for a reason, dragon, do you really wish to disturb that?” Chloe challenges.
I want to say no. Dragons survive because we are smart, and this, this isn’t smart, but I am learning love makes you do crazy things.
For her I would do all the crazy, stupid things it takes to keep her with me.
He watches me with feral, hungry eyes as I step closer, not teasing him. He needs this, I need this. My breathing picks up, my heart hammering in my chest as I willingly walk towards the hungry vamp, towards the predator, but instead of fear, lust fills me. I’m almost moaning, imagining him sinking those fangs into my flesh. He sniffs the air like an animal and growls, the chains creaking as he strains to get to me.
“You smell like life, like sex and blood,” he rumbles, the words muffled and rough from his fangs as need courses through him. His tongue darts out and licks his incisors, his eyes locked on the blood on my arm. Stepping nearer, I flinch at his sudden lunge then laugh.
“Feed,” I order, and press my arm to his mouth. He groans, lapping at the blood. His tongue is rough and wet, making me shiver as I visualise it buried in my pussy, blood dripping down me from his many fang wounds.
My eyes almost shut from the feeling. His are hooded as he licks my arm, tracing around the wound, his tongue tugging at the edges, making me moan at the flash of pain and the sexual way he does it. His eyes meet mine and then suddenly, he strikes. I jolt and scream in ecstasy as he sinks his fangs into me.
He rips through my skin, and the flash of discomfort fades into pleasure like I have never felt before—so hot and sudden. I fall forward into him and he catches me, wrapping me in his deadly embrace as he carries on drinking. I rub myself against him like a cat as I close my eyes, my pussy clamping down on air, my own cream dripping down my thighs. With each draw of his mouth, it feels like he’s sucking on my clit and I can’t stand it, it’s too good, too much pleasure. He pulls back and licks the cut, watching me as he strikes, this time not feeding, just biting.
I scream yet again, the pain making me wild. He watches my reaction with my blood coating his lips and chin. “Dirty little thing, you like my fangs,” he murmurs, and I nod breathlessly.
“Yesss, do it again,” I demand, gripping his hair which seems fuller, but before I can concentrate on what my blood has done to him, he attacks. Tearing into the skin at my elbow, he throws me into an orgasm from the force of his bite, leaving me spiralling in pleasure and pain.
I jerk against him before going limp. He holds me up as he licks the bites and heals them, but the blood still covers my arms and legs, except I don’t care. I cuddle into his chest and he holds me there, cooing words in French that I have no ability to understand.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper, my pussy still fluttering with aftershocks. It was one of those orgasms that rips through you, leaving you weak and tired after, but also strangely renewed. My legs are still jelly, so I let him hold me up until a noise has both our heads whipping around.